Bait
by Cass-7
Summary: Nightshift gets a new member on the same night that a body is fed to the sharks in Mandalay Bay's Shark Reef. Please remember that CSI's don't disappear on accident.
1. Introduction

Disclaimer: If you think Dare or I own any of this, you're freakin' crazy. Thanks for the thought, though.

"Bait"

A Cass-7/Dare-Sonar Project

Introduction

It was late in the evening, around 10 p.m. or so, when the last tour was going through the Sunken Ship at Shark Reef in the Mandalay Bay Hotel and Casino, Las Vegas, Nevada. Three children, two sets of parents, and one man trying to avoid the call of the casino chips watched a nurse shark swim gracefully by from one side of the exceptionally thick plastic-glass and felt strangely calm in the face of such a cunning predator. One child stood near the barrier and gasped as the newest addition to the Sunken Ship, the Great Hammerhead, glided passed him. It was only a baby, so it still had at least another eight feet left to grow, considering that it was only seven feet long.

The man trying to avoid the casino stood directly at the front of the Sunken Ship, his eyes fixated on the sea turtle that was contented just to fly gently through the water and be watched. It was quiet in the ship look-alike, not even the children made noise. It was peaceful, and for that, the man was grateful. The ringers, bells, and whistles in the casino upstairs were too much and pulled at him too often. Down here, however, the serene silence was a blessing. Here, he could focus, gather, and organize his thoughts.

One couple and their daughters left through the tunnel to the man's right, the youngest daughter begging her father to pick her up so that she would not have to walk on the glass panels of the already glass tunnel, while the teenager rolled her eyes and walked through with no problems. The man watched them leave, and then returned his gaze to the 1.3 million gallons of deep blue seawater.

"Come on, dear, we need to get Jimmy up to bed. He's been up since eight this morning, and we've done nothing but walk all day long. Besides, you wanted time to gamble, and once Jimmy is in bed, you can." The wife urged, picking up her son from under his armpits and holding him in her arms, the man's eyes flicking away from the tank and to the family.

Just as the husband had agreed to it and the couple turned their back to the glass, there was a flicker of rapid movement that the man saw out of the corner of his eye. The little boy, who was half asleep, looked up with rapt attention. The man looked once more at the tank and saw that all of the sharks were moving swiftly to the surface of the water, out of his view.

An aquarium assistant came around the corner to the Sunken Ship and moved quickly to the man's side.

"Do you normally feed them at night?" the man asked, pointing up at the sharks.

"No, we feed them when people can watch, I don't understand what's going on." The assistant answered.

Red smoke stained the deep blue and moved its way downwards into the man's sight, followed by the thrashing of several shark tails.

"Oh my god! Someone call 911!" The assistant cried, reaching for her walkie-talkie, "Get me the curator, quick! We have a major problem!"

The man dialed the police on his cell phone, and then his colleagues. As he snapped his phone shut, he could see a shoe float down towards the tank's bottom, blood running from it, and then a shark sailed by after it.

The child shrieked and the couple sprinted the way they had come to get to the Sunken Ship. Sirens were heard from the lobby of the hotel, and once the police and medics arrived, it was already over and the scene was handed over to the man's fellow CSI's.


	2. Galeophobia

"Hey Warrick, how'd you get here so fast?" Greg Sanders asked, walking up to the man standing near the back wall of the Sunken Ship.

The man who had been avoiding the casino worked the swing shift in the Las Vegas Crime Lab. His name was Warrick Brown, whose gorgeous body with light chocolate brown skin and two wonderfully different colored eyes set him apart from just about everyone else in the room.

"I've been here since the last tour started about half an hour ago. Where's Grissom?" Warrick answered.

"He's bringing in the new CSI on nightshift. I haven't heard much about her, except that she's got intuition and luck on her side. I overheard Grissom talking to her supervisor in Colorado over the phone, heard him say that he was impressed with the way that she would just 'stumble across evidence' in hot cases."

Warrick nodded and glanced back to the water behind the glass. It was no longer just tinted red, but dyed red, blood from not only whatever human victim there was, but from other sharks. The curator was scurrying around, in near tears because he did not know the status of the damage of his sharks. His eyes shifted again to the passage leading out of the Sunken Ship and saw Grissom heading through it. Behind Grissom was a blonde haired woman, her already fair skin turning into a lighter shade of pale as she faltered just a step away from the glass tunnel. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and walked straight through, and when she opened her eyes again, she appeared to have relaxed a little. Grissom waited for her to catch up before continuing to push his way through the sea of policemen.

"Warrick, what are you doing here?" Grissom asked, adjusting the shoulder strap on his kit.

"I'm a witness in this one." Warrick replied, motioning to the girl behind Grissom, "Who's that?"

"Warrick, Greg, this is Meagan Shepherds, the new CSI on nightshift."

Meagan stepped out from Grissom's shadow and smiled warmly at both Greg and Warrick. She still looked pale and was avidly averting her eyes from the tank, but she made sure to make eye contact with both Greg and Warrick.

"Greg, you two will be leaning on one another since you're both new to this. If either of you need extra help, come and get me, I'll be talking to the curator. For now, I want you to interview the witnesses. Report back to me when this has been accomplished, clear?" Grissom instructed.

Greg and Meagan nodded and Grissom turned in the opposite direction to talk to the distraught curator.

"I clearly don't remember the tank ever being this color. I've only been here once, but still." She said once Grissom was out of earshot, "What happened?"

"I was down here, trying to clear my head. Funny place, I know, but it's quiet and kind of out of the way," Warrick replied, leaning back against the wall, "there were two families down here, one had already left. The other is over talking to Brass, Greg will introduce you to him, and they were about to leave when the sharks started swimming to the surface area, beyond what we could see. Then there was some blood and a shoe floated down to the bottom, and, well, what you can't see is a result."

"What do you mean?"

"How many animals can you see swimming around in there now?"

"Good point."

"What a crap job Griss gave us. We're already done," Greg said, "but for the sake of getting to know one another better, we'll just pretend that he's telling us a long story. You didn't look too happy coming through that tunnel over there. You ok?"

"I'm fine, thanks."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm just a little—"

"I'm cutting interviews short, we need to go see if we can get all the live animals still in there separated and put into individual tanks for observation." Grissom interrupted.

Meagan waved good-bye to Warrick and followed Grissom, with Greg following behind her, across the wood flooring, through the tunnel once more, and finally through a deep green painted door. They went up a flight of metal stairs, and at last, they reached a locked door. The curator himself unlocked it and opened it to a room made entirely of cement and metal. Grissom stepped down less than three inches onto the cement platform, and moved to the side to make room for Greg and Meagan.

With Grissom's vest out of the way, Meagan could clearly see everything in the room. She could clearly see every black spot on the whitewashed walls. She could clearly see where the cement platform, only five feet wide, ended. And she could clearly see where the blood-red imported ocean water began. Her head began to throb steadily to the pounding in her ears that was growing louder. Her feet refused to move and her breathing was shallow and unstable. A single dorsal fin rose through the red beyond the platform and her feet propelled her backwards, back through the doorway and onto the landing of the stairs. Her back barely touch Greg and she whirled around and buried her face in his shoulder. He set his kit down on the ground and awkwardly comforted her as best as he could.

"Meagan? What's wrong?" Grissom asked as his head bounced into view.

"I'm…" She sniffled before continuing, "I'm selachophobic." She retreated from Greg's body and seemed to shrink as she did so.

"Will you be able to work this case?"

"Yes. I'm fine now, I've just never had to see that before."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. We better begin processing whatever evidence there is."

She pushed by Grissom and onto the platform. Greg and Grissom shrugged to one another and followed after her. Along the wall, there were buckets of fish and crustaceans waiting to be fed to what few sharks still remained. There was a puddle of blood to the right of the door, and Greg attended to that. Meagan continued to stare at the chum buckets while Grissom inspected the corners for cameras.

"You won't find any cameras in here, Mr. Grissom. I have one in the stairway, and throughout the exhibits, but not in here." The curator, Patrick McTaney, said.

"Who has access to this area?" Grissom asked.

"My staff, of course."

"Anyone specifically?"

"Jeffrey Everhart, Jackie Lynn, and Michael Olens. They're the ones that take care of this exhibit the most."

"Who is brave enough to get a sample of this water? We need to get one before we can filter the rest of it."

Finally, when no one answered, Grissom pulled out a container from his kit, unscrewed the lid, and dipped his hand carefully in the water. Meagan watched with wide eyes, but was calmed when he came out with his hand intact. He labeled it carefully and put it to the side of his kit.

"Mr. McTaney?" Meagan said, still looking at the food buckets intently.

"Yes?" He replied, walking to her side.

"Would you give me permission to take a look inside these buckets?"

"Whatever for?"

"I'm not entirely sure just yet."

"Meagan, we don't have time for hunches." Grissom announced.

"We don't have anything else to go on." She replied.

Grissom nodded in McTaney's direction. McTaney, though not thrilled with the thought of his creatures' food being touched, agreed silently. Meagan double checked her gloves and then started pulling fish and crabs slowly out of one bucket. Once she was finished with bucket number one, she replaced the fish and moved on to the next. This time, she did not remove the fish, but slid her hand into the middle of the bucket and closed her eyes.

"Mr. Grissom, I found something." She said, closing her eyes in disgust.

"What is it?" He asked from the landing on the stairs as he dusted the doorknob for fingerprints.

"Oh gross!" She exclaimed, pulling one of her hands out of the bucket.

"Mr. McTaney, why are your fish still bleeding?" Greg questioned, looking at Meagan's bloody glove.

"They shouldn't be, they've been frozen…"

Meagan reached in again and pulled out more than just her own hands. McTaney rushed for the stairs, nearly pushing Grissom down on his way out.

"Whoa. Guess this is a sign telling us to stop dicking around." Greg commented while watching Meagan bag the rather displaced body part.

"At least we didn't have to search the roadside for it," Grissom replied, "Now we just have to find the rest of him."


	3. Baby

Note: All right, so the place I was looking at for information was a big stinky liar and I am not at all pleased with them. Thanks for those of you who pointed out my mistake, I never would have caught it. You guys rock my socks clear off my feet.

It took a grand total of three hours for the tank to regain its beautiful blue color and the damage was finally tabulated. Only five of the forty sharks still remained, one sea turtle was killed, as were two of the large stingrays. Grissom had Brass get a warrant to put the five remaining sharks in separate tanks for observation, as well as ordering stomach pumps for each. One nurse shark, two sandbar sharks, one Sandtiger shark, and the hammerhead were to be watched constantly until they were retrieved for their stomach contents.

The feeding buckets had been searched and only one other thing had been found: a single finger. AFIS had come up blank on the prints, and CODIS had done the same with the DNA. Luckily, both appendages had come from the same person.

While the nurse shark was having its stomach drained (all sharks that needed to have their stomach contents removed were simply knocked out and then carefully operated on), Meagan had the task of watching the baby hammerhead. The tank it was confined to was only big enough to allow the seven-foot long "sweetheart" to swim in circles. Meagan sat on a metal chair with her clipboard resting on her knee, her fingers twirling her pen madly in an effort to forget her fear.

"You know what's scary? You're only going to get bigger." Meagan said to the shark.

The hammerhead just watched her as it swam up, down, and around the tank.

"You're pretty big now, and you aren't that old. You're still a baby."

The shark thumped its tail against the wall of the tank, causing Meagan to jump in her seat.

"Chill, baby." Greg said from the doorway that led to the hallway.

"Greg! Geez, it's just one thing after another in this room." Meagan gasped.

"My good looks are startling, I know. You'll never believe what they found in the nurse shark's stomach."

"Wow, what a change in tone. What'd they find?"

"A hand, and a wrist complete with a fancy watch."

"Ew. Wonder where they're going to find his head."

"You think they're going to find it? There are still 35 dead shark bodies to go through, it could be a while."

"I don't think so."

"Why not?" Greg asked, sauntering over to stand behind Meagan's chair.

"Just a feeling." Meagan replied, looking up at her colleague.

The two stared at one another for a couple seconds before the hammerhead slammed her tail against the tank again.

"Man alive!" Meagan exclaimed, looking forward at the tank in surprise.

"She's just nervous, that's all. Wouldn't you be, shall we say _jumpy_, if you were in a small tank with the knowledge that you were going to be operated on next?" Greg said.

"Of course. Um, I'd really like to apologize for what happened earlier when I…"

"Don't worry about it," Greg looked down at his pager, "Looks like I'm up next. Think you'll be ok if I leave you and Baby alone together?"

"Yeah."

"Ciao then."

Greg closed the door behind him when he left, leaving Meagan alone with the shark in the dark, cement-floored room. The hammerhead continued to swim and thump her tail against the tank. Meagan slid her chair backwards a few inches and continued to twirl her pen.

"So I guess I'll call you Baby from now on. Well, Baby, my name is Meagan," Meagan said, "I feel stupid talking to you. You're a shark, I doubt that you can understand me."

Baby whacked the tank in opposition. This time though, Meagan did not jump, she simply stared. For half an hour, Baby and Meagan remained calm in one another's presence. Meagan watched, her thoughts broken only by the pager on her hip that started buzzing wildly. It was from Greg. "A foot this time," it read, "be in here in 10." With a sigh, she got up and put her clipboard down on the chair. She took two steps closer to the tank and stopped.

"Show time, Baby."

Meagan stood at the back of the room in her cover-all scrubs, watching as some shark experts, Gil, and Greg lowered Baby onto the metal operating table, Greg at the tail, Gil in the middle, and the shark experts at the front end. Baby was already sedated, and one of the shark guys was running water over her constantly.

"Now, what makes sharks different than other animals is their teeth," shark expert Millans, the one in charge, explained to Meagan, "Because their teeth are shaped slightly inward, we can't reach in their and pull out anything we happen to grab a hold of in their stomachs. So, what we're going to do is introduce something into her system that will induce vomiting. We had to pull her out of the tank so we could do this, it takes about five minutes and we can't keep them still in the tank."

Meagan nodded, crossed her arms across her chest, and observed quietly. Millans carefully injected a dark yellow fluid into Baby's dorsal fin while the other man hosed her down. Greg stuck close to Baby's tail, keeping her from moving. He glanced at Meagan and a smile played across his face and he winked at her. She smiled back and noticed that Grissom was paying attention. She quickly looked away, reminding Greg that they were still working.

Ten minutes later, Baby was moving uncomfortably on the metal table and the experts were instructing Grissom and Greg on how to get her back into her tank. After struggling to lift the carrier she was placed in, they finally had her moving down the hallway back to her tank. Meagan touched Baby's tailfins as they lifted her and tilted her down back into the water. She twirled around in the tank, sloshing water over the edge and onto the floor in defiance. The five scientists stood in the dark room and waited. Finally, murky water came spurting out of Baby's mouth and the experts switched on the filter.

"Grissom, why aren't we operating on Baby like we did on the other sharks?" Meagan asked, suddenly aware that the process had changed.

"Because that would be obscene!" Mr. McTaney answered from the doorway.

"Where have you been?"

"Out. And you will not operate on this shark."

"What difference is there between this shark and the other four?"

"The other four are expendable, I can get replacements of them just as easily as I can find my own ass. This is a one of a kind specimen! Are you aware that this is the only Great Hammerhead ever to be held in captivity? I will not jeopardize the life of the creature that has put my name on the map! Find your evidence elsewhere, this is my shark, I refuse to let you touch it any more than you already have."

"Then we'll get a warrant." Grissom said.

"Under what pretenses, that there may or may not be a human body part in her stomach? And what good will that do you? That won't get you far. Besides, what you're looking for is the head, and there's no way that this baby could eat an entire human head."

"All we need to do is find half of the head, then we can get Teri Miller in and she can reconstruct the face that way." Greg announced.

"The half we need might be inside of her." Grissom stated.

"You can always find the other half. End of discussion. You will not cut open my Hammerhead. You better pray to God that another shark ate the other half." McTaney argued.

"How do we even know that it was cut in half? Maybe the head is somewhere else." Meagan interjected.

"That's just a risk we're going to have to take!" Grissom shouted. A split second later, Grissom's cell phone rang, "Yeah? Is it that bad? Ok, get it here as quickly as possible," Grissom snapped his phone shut, "It appears that we don't have to operate on your shark at all, Mr. McTaney. They found half of the head."


End file.
